


Diamonds

by Stegosaur



Series: Gems of the Night [5]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Crossdressing, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Feminization, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:05:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stegosaur/pseuds/Stegosaur
Summary: Five years have passed since that fateful dinner, but Sapphire has not forgotten those who wronged her, or those she left behind.





	1. Blue Diamond, part I

                Leola wrung out another cloth of sweat from her husband's forehead, pulling a fresh one from the basin and applying it gingerly. Hashigo hadn't been well for months now, and at the ripe old age of ninety-eight, Leola had no doubts of his impending passing. A small television in the corner of the bedroom hissed the world news over its mono speaker, background noise for the old rat to keep abreast of events should he recover and return to work.  "How do you feel, husband?"

                The rat coughed, a few flecks of red blood on his paw signaling the spread of his cancers. "Cooler now, my dear wife, though it is of small comfort." Leola grabbed the washcloth and wiped his hand clean, soaking it in a separate basin that had been mixed with antiseptic alcohol for bathing purposes. They had been together just five years now, their anniversary passing in silence as Hashigo had slept peacefully for the first time in weeks. The rat grabbed his hand and squeezed it firmly, claws brushing over the powder blue polish that always adorned her nails.  Life was rough at first, adjusting to a language and culture she didn't quite understand, yet perseverance paid off in the end. Despite his horrible past, Hashigo had made earnest and honest strides to turn his empire around for the better, and Leola learned he was an honest man who lived a dishonest life.  As long as she served him honorably, he was the kindest spirit toward her.

                "In American news today, Donatello Hamon, chairman and owner of the Hamon Development Group, announced his plans to revitalize the warehouse district of-" Leola clicked the television off angrily, Donatello waving to the gathered crowds with his wife and sister at his side, smiles on their faces.  The rat picked up on her discord, squeezing her hand again.

                "You still hate him, my wife?" Leola nodded sharply, turning back to her husband and pressing down on his damp cooling cloth.  "I do not blame you. He took everything you had, after all."

                "He took what I gave him, nothing more, husband." Leola had learned to mask her pain from everyone but him, the man who knew her better than her own parents had. The rat released her hand and turned his gaze toward the window overlooking Kyoto's skyline, their penthouse occupying the tallest tower in the region, a fortress in the sky.

                "What will you do when I pass, wife?" The question was open ended, an odd one from the rat, and one that gave her pause for thought.

                "I will continue to serve your enterprise until my debt has been repaid, husband." The rat coughed into his hand as he tried to chuckle. "Here, let me fetch you some water." A hand lashed out and seized her wrist, Hashigo turning to face her, his eyes bloodshot.

                "Gather the board. It's time."  Leola rose sharply and hurried out to the foyer of their estate, the board already waiting anxiously for any word about their Chairman's condition. Leola ushered them into the small bedroom together, all of them surrounding their bedridden leader on their knees as Leola began to close the door and give them privacy. "You too, my wife. Though you have never loved me, you must be present for what I'm about to say." The words stung true in her heart, and she obeyed, pulling the door closed behind her and kneeling next to her husband. The rat caught his breath and turned to the accountant and lawyer at his right, both pulling out papers and documents to sign, as well as a recorder to take record of the final events. Hashigo cleared his threat and reached to his left, squeezing Leola's hands tight.

                "I, Hashigo Yoshi, of sound mind and dying body, do hereby make the following declarations, to be enacted immediately upon my death." The room was silent as the old rat spoke, his gaze turning lovingly to Leola, staring into her steel blue eyes. "My wife. Though you did not love me, you still showed me love. Though you cared not for me, you still showed me kindness and caring. Though I gave you no choice, you did everything I asked of you willingly. I have never met, nor will I ever meet again, someone as truly honorable as yourself, and it pains me to know that after I die, you still intend to repay a debt you have no business carrying." Leola smiled softly, squeezing those claws of his tightly between her fingers. "Upon my death, my assets will firstly be used to pay any and all outstanding debts you may owe, to any debtor, anywhere in the world. I wipe your slate clean, and free you of the shackles that have led you here, to my side, in my final hours. It is the least I can do as thanks for your selfless service, my dear Leola." Leola actually felt herself crying as the rat squeezed her hands again, tears streaming down her cheeks as she silently mouthed a thank you to her husband.

                "Seventy years ago, I corrupted an innocent child. For that alone, I should be cast to hell, but then I corrupted her son as well, and in my darkest, foulest self, shattered the lives of six innocent terrapins, setting in motion events that should have never transpired. I confess to these crimes and bear all responsibility for them myself. I have no illusions about the eternal torment I will endure for my actions, nor do I beg forgiveness from those I hurt. I am a monster, and-" The attorney reached for the recorder to stop it, Hashigo snatching it from his grasp and placing it atop his chest, Leola's eyes wide as he admitted his crimes so openly. "And I deserved to die long ago. There is one monster I created, however, one who still walks this earth, continuing my evil work." Hashigo stared up at Leola, bloodshot eyes starting to fade in color. "Leola, my wife, I leave you my fortune, my estates, my legal businesses, for one purpose only: destroy the monster I have created, and rescue those he has taken from you. What you do with them in pursuit of and after achieving that goal is up to you."

                Leola choked back a sob and kissed the rat's hand, for the first time in her life, with genuine love for him. "Husband...Hashigo-San..."

                "I was selfish when I took you. Please forgive me for everything, Leola." The rat's hand weakened, the board members panicking as death began creeping up his body. "I never knew...your real name..."

                Leola leaned down and whispered in his ear as he passed, the old rat dying with a smile on his face.

* * *

                Rain poured from the sky as the funeral carried on, Hashigo's remains cremated and entombed in a solid brick per his request, to be thrown into the ocean in four days' time. He had been adamant that he never be given the same treatment as his family, as he had done nothing but dishonor the very notion of life itself in the process of living his. Incense burned in front of his portrait as guests paid their respects, many of whom were none the wiser of his true nature.

                Leola chewed on a pen between her teeth as she reviewed some documents in a side room, an idle hand tracing over the sapphire gemstone pressing against the top of her slit, mounted firmly to its cage beneath. Two lawyers sat across from her, an orca and monitor lizard, both sweating nervously in their suits. "This is expensive, and lacks a real chance for success." Leola gruffed at the two, striking out some points with the pen. "The contract shackles us to the site with no flexibility whatsoever, and we still don't know what he's planning."

                "I'm sorry Madame Leola, but he keeps his plans secret until they have approval, and he's ensured he'll have no competition in the marketplace. It's why he's so wealthy." The orca explained, the lizard's tail twitching nervously.

                "What is it, Lem?" Leola glared at the lizard, who straightened up sharply in his seat.

                "Uhm, well...I had a thought, actually. We don't know what he's building, that's true, so I thought we could apply pressure in a different way." Leola quirked a brow, the lizard stammering. "I mean, instead of building into the market as a new company, why don't we acquire and renovate an existing one? We already own a controlling stake in the flag airlines of Japan, Korea, and Hong Kong. Why not buy into the hospitality market that way? Partner with an existing player instead of muscling into an overcrowded market." Leola tapped the pen to her chin with a growing smile, tossing the folder of papers to the orca as she stood.

                "I like that idea. I take it you have someone in mind, Lem?" The lizard nodded sharply, rising from his seat as well. "Good. Marcel, you're assisting Lem. Lem, send me daily updates and book me in the finest hotel for the company you wish us to partner with, so I can scope them out myself."

                "Yes Madame. What city?" Leola walked over to the bar and poured herself a drink, gazing down into her locket around her neck, a picture of herself and Mike hugging and laughing together as kids, a reminder of her goal in all this.

                "Boston. I hear the Hamon family has their headquarters there. Let's make sure they don't miss our entrance." She swallowed the drink in a single gulp, staring back at herself in the mirror, those powder blue tattooed lips and eyeliners accenting her face, a smile creeping wide across her lips.

                It was time to pay her brother-in-law a visit.

* * *

                The darkened car pulled into the private driveway of the Four Seasons hotel, a valet carefully opening the rear passenger door and stepping aside, his head bowed.  “Welcome to the Four Seasons Boston, Madame.” Leola stuck her right leg out first, heel clonking firmly against the brick sidewalk and exposing her immaculately smooth flesh to the daylight, her kimono dress dipping between her thighs and over the seat.  A few weaker men gawked until she finally stepped completely out of the vehicle and rose to her full height, blue-rimmed sunglasses shielding her from the glare of the sun while the silk blue kimono and its gold trim billowed slightly in the light breeze, solid gold bracelets dangling from her wrists and against the opera purse always be her side.  She took stock of the surroundings for any familiar faces before sauntering confidently into the hotel, the hotel’s chief of staff following closely behind.

                “Madame Leola, your presence is much appreciated and honored here.  We’ve booked you in the penthouse residence, per your request, with beautiful views of the Boston Garden and Commons.”  Leola twisted her arm around, palm up, a set of keys deposited in it by the porcine gentlemen.  “Should you need anything, please inform your butler, and all necessary arrangements will be made post-haste.”  Leola didn’t answer as she entered the private elevator, pivoting sharply on her right heel to face the closing doors.

                The penthouse was as immaculate as Lem told her it would be, and its utter privacy finally gave her the chance to stretch out and relax, free of observation from the company leadership.  Once the apartment had been locked tight and privacy curtains drawn, Leola slipped out of the formal kimono garment and into the open air of nudity, sighing in relief.  “This, feels nice.  I can’t remember the last time I was free like this.”  She tossed off the sunglasses and purse into the pile, the bracelets jingling against each other as she stretched out in front of the windows, sunlight bathing her skin in a delightful warmth.  The view wasn’t as ideal as she’d liked, however, Donatello’s obscene tower rising under construction just off to the east, the second tallest building in the city, and the tallest residential tower by far.  The penthouse had been finished first, and was no doubt home to their private residence, a 360 degree balcony giving that monster view of anyone and anywhere in the city.  Leola reached down and massaged her slit, the Sapphire set in its socket constantly pressing up against the top of her slit like an ornament, the cage glued shut within ensuring it couldn’t be removed by her own hand.  She hissed as her fingers brushed her overly-sensitive flesh, her cock straining beneath its metal confines for release it was forever denied.  Her first act upon receiving freedom and burying Hashigo was to get it removed, but no jeweler would file it, and no Doctor would drill it, with everyone agreeing it was too tight inside to do anything about without risking deformation in the process.  It angered her to no end, but she knew she could repay it in kind in due time.

                A few minutes of stretching and meditation brought her intense arousal down and restored her mental clarity, a deep breath centering her focus on the first target on his list, the only one to show any sort of resistance despite being captive for so long.  She walked over to the phone and plucked up the receiver, speaking huskly into the handset.  “Yes, this is Madame Leola in the penthouse.  I would like to request the company of a young woman by the name of Ruby, a terrapin, and I heard she was still working in the area.  Mmhmm. No, no, I will cover the expense myself, just please do not mention my name at all.  Yes.  Eight o’clock sounds perfect, thank you.”  A clatter of the phone on its base and the deed was done, or so she hoped.  She would be very disappointed if she came all this way for her dinner date to skip out.

* * *

                With candles lit and dinner served, Leola glanced again at the clock on the wall, her heart skipping a beat at the time shown.  Curtains had been drawn, and her entourage had been instructed to seize all electronics and check for any bugs prior to Ruby’s arrival, though they needn’t know why beyond the vague excuse of ‘confidential business’.  Leola waited out of sight and around the corner for her guest’s imminent arrival, a carefully placed vase a convenient mirror for her to use and spy on the door with.  A firm series of two knocks echoed out on the fine wood doors before they parted, a terrapin being shoved inside before the thick slabs were closed behind her, a lock clicking into place.  “Hello? Come on out sweetie, Ruby doesn’t bite…”  Leola took a deep breath, the voice sounding more effeminate than she remembered.  “Honey?  I don’t mind playing hide and seek either, it’s your dime.”  Leola paused in thought, thinking of some way to verify Ruby’s identity without giving away anything too revealing about herself, settling on a simple question from her place of concealment.

                “I’ll be right out!”  She chirped, almost too enthusiastically.  “You know, everywhere I go, I ask for Ruby to be my guest for my first meal.  It’s like having a girlfriend in every city, you know?”  She saw the turtle relax in the blurred reflection of the vase, tempting fate a bit more, letting them respond first.

                “Oooh, I like that idea.  I hope you treat her well.” The voice was definitely higher, more effeminate, and yet it shouldn’t be if this was her Ruby.  She finally ventured out around the corner, taking stock of the emerald turtle with her amber eyes, that body significantly more curved than she remembered, but that ruby red color nearly blinding her despite the dim light.  Leola was stark naked except for her bracelets and gemstone, her makeup tattoos glittering faintly by candlelight.  “Oh my, right to the point, I love that.”  Leola strode forward and cupped Ruby’s chin lightly, placing her blue lips upon those red ones without a word, her other hand sliding down the turtle’s dress.  Ruby groaned into the kiss like a lusty animal, Leola taking her chance and thrusting her fingers under the skirt and into the slit, metal impacting her nails as Ruby sharply pulled away in shock.  “B-back off, creep! That’s off limits!”  Leola smirked back and strode right up to Ruby again, whispering into her ear.

                “Hello, Ray.”  The emerald turtle froze in fear, nostrils flaring sharply for air as her chest heaved, Leola making sure to keep her close and stop her from running.  “Don’t say a word, understand?  Just nod or shake your head.” A slow nod, those amber eyes looking nervously into her own.  “Is Mike safe?” There was a firm swallow followed by another nod, the smaller turtle beginning to shake.  “Are you being monitored?”  A shake of the head, violently this time.  “Do you remember me at all?”  Another shake, Leola’s heart sinking.  Donatello must’ve done a number on him after her abduction to Japan, making sure to quash all resistance, or thoughts of it.  Leola leaned back and cupped Ray’s head gently in her hands, forcing him to match gazes with her own eyes.  “Do you remember the name Leola?”  There was a lingering pause as gears turned inside Ray’s head, the fearful shaking slowly dissipating into a shocked calm, tears welling up in her eyes.  “It’s me.  It’s Leola.  Do you remember me Ray?”  The emerald turtle didn’t respond at first, though the tears streaming down his cheeks said all that was needed then.

                “You…you’re alive.”  The voice was choked, whisper quiet, disbelief on every word.  “I…”  Leola embraced him with both arms, cradling Ray’s head against her chest as he broke down into a full-on sob, those thick arms of straddling her shell in an attempt to return the hug.  The two embraced for what felt like an eternity, Ray sobbing openly into Leola’s chest, tears welling up in her own eyes at the surprising reaction from him.  Ray suddenly pushed back and looked up at Leola’s face, wiping the tears from his eyes before tracing over her makeup with his fingers, rubbing with increased friction at the tattoos as if they were makeup.  “Oh…h-he…are you…?”  Leola nodded softly, guiding his hands downward to her own slit, making sure he knew the full implications of her service and abduction.  “I…I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t, Ray.  I hold no ill will toward you.”  Ray’s fingers recoiled from the cage and Leola’s slit, falling by his sides.  “What happened, happened, and it can never be undone.  All we can do is move forward toward a brighter future together.”  Ray’s gaze turned toward the floor at that statement, Leola’s fingers lifting his chin.  “What troubles you?”

                “It’s been five years, Leo.”  Leola pressed her finger to his lips, waving it gently.  “You serious?  You…want me to call you-“

                “By my legal name, yes.  You must never use my former name again, until matters have been settled.  Do you understand?”  Ray’s fists clenched as he nodded begrudgingly, lip quivering in a snarl.  “Good.  Now Ray, tell me what’s on your mind over dinner, okay?”  Leola motioned to the dinner setup for the two of them, Ray letting out a stuttered laugh at the sight.

                “You are serious.  Dinner is how this whole shit started, Lee…Leola.”  Ray flopped into his chair with a thud, holding his head in his hands, his own makeup clearly tattooed on as well.  “I…I don’t know what to say. I thought for certain Yoshi-san had, y’know…”  Leola placed a comforting hand on Ray’s shell as she walked by, easing into her own seat.  “Does he know you’re here?  Does he know I’m here, and talking, and-“

                Leola smiled sweetly, reaching across the table to stroke Ray’s arm.  “Shh. I sincerely doubt he’s watching from the grave, Ray.  In his own words, he had a lot to atone for in the afterlife.”  She folded her legs beneath the table and slowly cut into the hot chicken breast, popping a piece into her mouth with a churr.  “Mmm, as good as I’d hoped.  Do dig in, Ray, you look…famished isn’t the _right_ word, but you’ve clearly undergone some changes since we last spoke.”  Ray sighed outwardly and cut roughly into the chicken breast as well, popping a much larger bite into his mouth.  “Are you still working out?”  Ray nodded as he chewed, swallowing the white meat with a similar churr, a smile popping on his face.

                “Mmm!  This _is_ good!  And yeah, I still work out, but I’m not gaining any muscle mass.  If anything, I’m losing it, and I keep getting…curvier.  My voice changed, too, and I’ve put on some weight, even though I’ve cut my calories.  I mean, my meals are all made for me, but…” Leola bit her lip, wavering on finally coming clean with Ray about _why_ he was changing like that.  She didn’t want to hurt him any further, and yet, she could never lie to him, not now.  “You look kinda…curvy, too.  And your voice is slightly higher.”  Leola saw the puzzle pieces in Ray’s mind, sighing as she forced them together.

                “We’ve both been on hormone and estrogen treatments, Ray.  Hashigo stopped mine shortly after I arrived in Japan, but Donatello has been dosing you for years, at least with estrogen capsules.  Every meal, every day.  It’s probably because you work out so often that you’ve not fully transitioned yet.”  Ray dropped his fork in shock, mouth agape.  “Consider your workouts a silent resistance to him.”

                “How can you say that so…so casually?  You mean my own brother has been dosing me for _years_? And never told me?!” Ray’s hands slammed on the table angrily.  “I…I’ll kill him!”  He snarled, those ruby lips curling up in rage.  Leola showed no outward response as she chewed another bite of her meal, swallowing in due time to let his anger simmer.

                “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Ray.  I will not let us stoop to his level.”  Her steel blue eyes pierced Ray’s with fierce determination, body language cool and unemotional.  “Make no mistake, I will ruin him.  I will take his property, his career, his money, his possessions, everything he ever owned or touched will fall under my control.”  Ray’s face was contorted in shock and confusion, Leola cutting off another piece of her chicken breast and hesitating.  “I will take everything but his life from him, Ray.  Then we will let the authorities handle the rest.”

                “You’re fucking serious.  There’s only one other person I’ve ever seen with that look, and that’s D.”  Ray let slip a nervous laugh, sitting back in his chair.  “Holy shit, Leola, you’re stone cold.”  He rubbed his scalp nervously and leaned forward in his seat, glancing nervously around the room.  “So…what do you need from me?”  Leola chewed her bite of chicken breast slowly in thought, the spices tingling her tongue with culinary delight as an idea popped into her mind.

                A smile crept wide across her powder blue lips.  “A date.”


	2. Blue Diamond, part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leola and Ray finally have their first, real date, and as expected, it goes disastrously according to plan.

                Leola adjusted her dress in the mirror carefully, making sure no wrinkles would spoil the intricate pattern on the fabric for the photographers waiting downstairs.  Ray was by her side, his usual punkish-dress outfit hanging neatly from his body, though he looked far more confident in it than normal.  He rubbed at the tattoo on his lips nervously, resisting the urge to bite his painted nails.  “Are you sure about this?  Once we’re seen together, there’s no going back on this plan of yours.”  Leola gave a sharp nod, pivoting in her heels to face Ray, arms framing her outfit.  “You look…good.  I mean, you do, it’s just-“

                “Not your thing, I know.  Believe me, I miss the open comfort of a good pair of jeans and a loose tee shirt, but appearances must be kept until the time is right.”  Ray winced a little, Leola reaching forward to stroke his cheek.  “Hey, don’t look so glum.  Today’s the day you’re free, okay?  He’s the idiot who decided to play in the court of public opinion, so let’s go rub his ugly nose in it.  You’d be amazed what a little photo op will do.”  Ray rubbed his left arm anxiously again, Leola pressing a kiss on his cheek before pressing her forehead to his.  “You’re a victim, Ray.  You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, so be proud of who you are today.”  Ray nodded softly and took a deep breath, Leola kissing his forehead briefly before grabbing her purse and wallet.  “Ready?”

                “As I’ll ever be, Leola.”  She smiled, opening the penthouse door and moving quickly with her entourage toward the elevator, Lem scurrying up to them from behind and catching Ray off guard.

                “Madame, the contract you requested-“ Leola snatched the papers mid-stride and reviewed them with cold precision, pulling a pen from her purse and immediately noting several items on multiple pages, flicking through them like a professional.  She thrust the papers back at Lem and put the pen away, the elevator doors sliding apart on cue.  “Yes Madame, I’ll have the alterations done and agreement signed by the noon press conference.  Enjoy your breakfast!”  The two turtles slipped into the elevator along with two bodyguards, Ray’s anxiety showing on the open air.  Leola grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, mouthing ‘breathe’ to him as the car descended downstairs.  The emerald turtle gave a nod, the car coming to a stop and doors parting once more, the commotion outside easily heard and giving them both a moment of pause.  Once they were seen, the ball would start rolling towards an inevitable end, and they’d both be unable to stop events after that point.  Leola turned to look at Ray once more, giving her nod of affirmation, the other turtle returning it before they began strutting out of the hotel, and into the open air.

                Flashbulbs of cameras immediately began going off along with a frenzied shouting, paparazzi swarming them both just outside the door of the hotel.  “Miss Leola, Miss Leola!”  Several peppered them with questions, Leola just flashing that seductive smile back at them.  “What would your late husband think of you dating a woman?!”  Leola mocked shock at the question, Ray squeezing her arm tight.

                “I think my late husband would have no concerns with my meeting our longtime family friend, Raphaela.  After all, her brother introduced us six years ago, and practically made our marriage in the first place.”  Her words were chosen to not directly blame Donatello yet, but leave her quotes open for reinterpretation later on.  “We’re not dating, just catching up together.  What, can’t two women meet in public without a scandal being assumed?”  Laughter permeated some of the gathered crowd, Ray’s grasp relaxing as the tension eased.

                “Miss Raphaela, your brother mentioned you were sick.  Does this mean you’re feeling better?”  Ray looked confused, his honesty captured permanently on film by the paparazzi as he responded honestly and unprepared, just as Leola intended.

                “I’ve not been sick for a while. Who told you this?”  The tension shot up again as the crowd focused on him instead, Leola’s lips curling into a grin as she tugged Ray along and down the sidewalk, a large bear muscling through them to block their path and catching Ray off guard.  “B-boris, did you need something?”

                “Your brother has asked you return home.”  The bear eyeballed Leola, recognition on his eyes.  “Immediately.  Let’s go.”  The bear reached out and touched Ray’s shoulder, the turtle recoiling back and shaking his head.

                “I’ve ah, I’ve got a date with my friend Leola, here.  Sorry Boris, please pass my regards to Donatello.”  The clicks and flashes of cameras continued as the bear moved in again, this time firmly grasping Ray’s shoulder, claws digging in and making him wince.  Leola’s bodyguards immediately began to move up from behind, a flick of her wrist keeping them at bay as Ray’s face became fearful, panicking as Leola released his hand.  “Boris, let go of me, that hurts.  I’m not coming home right now.”  The bear made no acknowledgement of the plea, starting to tug Ray towards a waiting car without making more of a scene than needed.

                “Hey Boris, Raphaela said **no**.”  Leola snapped angrily, handing her purse and wallet to a bodyguard and stepping forward, the bear paying her no mind as he turned his back to them, Ray’s heels dragging on the pavement.  Ray yelped for help and turned to face her just as she slipped free of her heels, jumping off the pavement by her feet in order to strike the bear on the back of his neck, his grip finally coming free as he yelped.  “No means no, so be a good teddy bear and leave us alone.”  Boris stumbled forward from the blow and back upright, turning to face Leola.

                “Little wifey should remember her place.”  The bear attempted to backhand Leola, her arms lashing out to grab the paw mid-swipe and use the momentum against him, directing the paw backwards and twisted painfully behind him, her dress flowing in the air as she glided like water behind his back, giving it another, powerful twist.

                “I am _not_ ‘little wifey’, you ill-tempered animal.”  The crowd cheered as she held the bear by her own hand, twisting again every time he tried to unbind himself.  “When someone says no, you respect that decision, and Raphaela says _no_.”  She released him with a shove forward, the bear stumbling to the ground with a growl.  Just as she reached for Ray’s arm to keep moving, the bear rolled onto his back and removed a taser from his jacket, Leola’s bodyguards shouting ‘GUN’ and intervening with their own firearms.  Ray’s face was one of horror at the scene, Leola quickly grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her entourage, the paparazzi having a field day with this scoop.  She peered behind one of her guards and sneered at the bear, shouting for everyone to hear her clearly.  “Is that how Donatello really is?  Controlling his ‘family’ with force like that?  He sounds like a monster!”  The quote was enough to start the gossip feud in her favor, the two of them scurrying off while the crowd kept the bodyguards to deal with each other.  A few photographers peeled off to follow them as they hustled down the street and back towards the hotel, peppering questions at them wildly.  Leola feigned shock to match Ray’s genuine expression as they made for the front door, Leola shoving him inside before facing a camera.  “Tell Donatello that Raphaela is staying with me until he gets his house in order, and that if you want a _real_ story, I’d start following his wife, Michelle.”  She slammed the hotel door in their faces and grabbed Ray’s hand, whisking him back into the elevator as hotel security protected their retreat.  Once the doors had closed, she caught her breath and slowly broke into a laughing fit, Ray’s face still shocked, dazed, and confused.

                “What…what just happened?”  Ray turned to her, a bruise on his shoulder from Boris’ grip.  “He…he actually tried to kidnap me!  I _trusted_ Boris!”  Ray’s fists clenched and he slammed one into the elevator paneling, Leola laughing aloud.  “What’s so fucking funny, Leola?!”

                “That…that went better than I expected!  Oh my god, that was such a _rush!_ ”  She exclaimed, walking unsteadily towards the penthouse door as adrenaline surged through her body.  A tap of her phone unlocked the door, the scent of hot breakfast wafting into the hall.  “Come on, this is a breakfast we earned.”  Ray’s confusion returned as he looked over the massive plates of breakfast waiting for them, hooking his thumb toward the elevator.

                “I…thought we were going out for breakfast?”  Leola shook her head, eagerly disrobing into nudity again as the door closed behind them, her entourage guarding the sole entrance.  “Was…was that your plan?  Did you know he would be there?”  Leola shook her head, tapping the gemstone decoration of her cage with a churr.  “Okay, I’m lost.  What the _fuck_ just happened?”

                “I had my team gather all the gossip rags outside for this morning for our walk, but I had _no idea_ Donatello would actually try to _abduct_ you.  That’s just icing on an already glorious cake.”  Ray folded his arms, frustrated.

                “I was bait, wasn’t I?”  Leola grinned back at him, nodding.  “You _mother fucker_.”  Ray play-shoved Leola, the taller turtle giggling with glee at the wonderful results.  “You _knew_ he’d make a move at some point on me.  You just didn’t know where!”

                “Eeeeyup.” Leola beamed, grabbing Ray’s hands and squeezing them.  “Point to Leola.  Now he’ll be hard pressed to defend himself to the media.”  Ray shook his head in disbelief, returning the squeeze before releasing and walking toward the hot meal waiting on them both.  “Which also means you won’t be going home for a while.  Hope you don’t have a pet or anything, because I don’t think Donatello will feed it after this stunt.”  Ray waved his hand dismissively, shoving a strip of bacon into his maw and munching eagerly at it, an audible ding from Leola’s purse drawing her attention.  She plucked the phone from within and laughed aloud, showing the screen to Ray, who almost spit out his bacon in surprise.

                “ _Top Terrapin Tussles with Debonair Donatello’s Defender_. Holy shit, that’s Boris!  And us!”  Ray exclaimed, the photo neatly capturing the view of the five of them from behind, Boris angrily wielding a taser at the two of them as they ducked between the other bodyguards, tasteful blur adding an air of danger to the moment.  “What outlet is that?”

                “TMZ, though I give it half an hour before every major outlet is reporting that your brother’s chief of security tried to taser you in public, and that I defended you from his reach.”  Ray blinked in shock, chuckling nervously.  “Your brother is going to be _pissed_.”

                “Yeah, I’m ah, I’m not going home anytime soon, am I?”  Leola shook her head, finally sitting down to dig into the rapidly-cooling meal, popping some scrambled eggs into her mouth with a delighted churr as Ray feigned hopelessness.  “Oh no, wherever shall I go now that my brother has tried to abduct me.  Woe is me, to have no friends in this, my darkest OW-!”  Leola stomped playfully on his foot, the emerald turtle snickering back.  “Thank you.  I’ve not had genuine fun in years.  Or food this good.”

                “Your chef doesn’t make good food?”  Ray shook his head, Leola attempting a crude joke.  “Must be that estrogen he puts in it.”  Ray rolled his eyes and returned the stomp, Leola’s feet deftly moving aside.

                “Cunt.” Ray smiled.

                “Whore.” Leola grinned back.

* * *

                “Big news out of Boston today, as recently widowed Leola Yoshi and family friend Raphaela Hamon were accosted outside of a hotel by Donatello Hamon’s Chief of Security, Boris Yatsanlov.”  Leola curled up against Ray’s chest with a churr as the celebrity gossip played on the television, the two of them opting for some intimacy while enjoying the news.  “When asked by a reporter what she thought of the events, Leola called Donatello a ‘monster’, and directed us to Michelle Hamon for additional comment.  At press time, neither Michelle nore Donatello were available to respond-“ Leola clicked off the TV and kissed Ray’s lips firmly, tongue pressing its way into his mouth and exploring the space within, both turtles groaning into the passionate exchange.  A knock at the door jolted them apart, Leola patting his cheek tenderly.

                “That’s the surprise.  Wait here.”  She strode to the door and parted it in her full nudity, a well-dressed gentleman with a large suitcase entering the penthouse, tipping his hat to Leola.  The feline removed his coat and hat, rolling up his sleeves as he looked to Ray, Leola giving a silent nod in acknowledgement.  “Ah, Ray, this is my family physician, Doctor Miles.  He’s well aware of my unique circumstances, and would like to take a look at yours, if you don’t mind.”  Ray blushed a hot red at the implications, the Doctor bowing at the waist.

                “I promise you that whatever goes on here has the utmost confidentiality, Mister Ray.  Now then, seeing as you’re already undressed, might I have a look at the device?”  Ray looked to Leola for guidance, who merely nodded approvingly toward him.

                “Uh, yeah, sure…”  He spread his legs as the feline pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, slowly kneeling between Ray’s thighs and carefully pulling the slit apart, eyes squinting a bit.  The touch made Ray shudder with need out of sheer reflex, almost a full decade of no erections or climaxes having left him permanently on edge.  The feline pulled his suitcase over and opened a zippered pocket, retrieving an otoscope and clicking it on before pushing its smaller tip into the slit proper, peering around.  “C-careful Doc, I’m sensitive as hell down there.”  The Doctor hummed a bit, removing the scope and setting it aside, grabbing a speculum next and making Ray’s heart race.  “The fuck is that thing?”

                “It’s a Speculum.  What I’d like to do is insert it into your genital slit here, and then slowly expand it, once click at a time.  You’ll let me know the moment you feel even the slightest pain, okay?”  Ray nodded hesitantly, the Doctor inserting the cold metal against the lips of his slit and adjusting its positioning, giving it a single click to start.  The sensitivity was high, but no pain came from the forced opening of his slit, the feline giving it another click, followed by another.  “Still no pain?”  Ray shook his head.  “You’re doing wonderful.”  There were two more clicks, pressure increasing substantially after the second as his flesh felt stretched near its limit.  The doctor gave one final click of the speculum, Ray yelping as soon as pain radiated from his skin there, the feline pressing the quick release as soon as he’d heard Ray’s painful cry.  “We’re all done here.”

                “What’s the verdict, Doctor?”  Leola was sucking on her fingers nervously, the feline grunting as he stood up and examined the speculum in detail.  “Can you fix him?”  The feline nodded slowly, but picked up pace as he became assured of his own skills.  “Seriously?!”

                “Mmhmm.  He’s lucky, the piercing is just a 16 gauge ring.  I’m guessing Donatello just wanted it done quickly, not properly.  It also seems like he’s had more stretching down there, which helps get the tool in.”  The Doctor spoke matter-of-factly, Leola’s heart skipping a beat at the wonderful news.  “Though I won’t lie, he fits just barely.  For you, well…I’m sorry, Leola.  I can’t help any more than I already told you.”  Ray turned his head between the two of them in confusion, an idle hand fidgeting with his cage and adjusting himself for comfort.

                “Hey, what are you two talking about?  What do you mean, fix me?”  Leola motioned to the Doctor to fill him in, taking a deep breath of relief.  “Well?”

                “Well, Ray, the short of it is that, well…I can remove that cage from you right now, if you’d like.”  Ray’s mind didn’t comprehend what he was hearing, the Doctor launching into a more detailed explanation.  “When you were pierced, it was likely done for comfort first, and stretching later.  To start, a lot of piercing parlors issue sixteen gauge piercings since they’re small enough to minimize discomfort, but still allow for easy stretching later on.  You never stretched, and when you were sealed into that device with welders glue, it was to a very thin ring.  Combined with the flexibility of your genital slit, I can actually get a pair of bolt cutters in there, give a careful snip, remove the severed piercing, and the cage with it.”  Ray’s eyes begin to tear up again, hands clasped over his mouth as he sucked in a sharp breath.

                “You…you serious?”  The feline nodded, removing a miniature bolt cutter from the bag and waving it around for effect.  “I…I…”  He turned to Leola for advice, who herself was tearing up.  “W-what about Leola?  Can’t you remove hers?”  The room deflated substantially, the feline frowning as he shook his head.  “Why not?!”

                “Don’t misunderstand, Ray, I would love to free Madame Leola as well.  The problem is that Donatello did far better work with her.  For one, she’s got a four gauge ring, not a sixteen gauge.  It’s a little over three times as thick as your own, and one of the thickest sizes you can get.  Your cage itself is anywhere from four gauge to double-o gauge thick, but the piercing that prevents its removal is only sixteen gauge in your case, hence the easy procedure.”  Leola dipped two fingers down to her slit and spread it open, wincing as it stretched just barely wide enough for her fully engorged cock, and nothing more.

                “And because I’m not as stretchy as you are, he can’t get even that mini-cutter in, not that it would work anyway.  You’d need a proper size bolt cutter, and that’s just not physically possible.  There’s still options, but…we’re talking several days of solid filing in an enclosed space with tight confines.  I use some grinding wire when I have time, but it’ll take me years to get the ring off, even if I work at it every night.  It’s just too cramped in there.”  The Doctor nodded in agreement, Ray’s look of betrayal and shock betraying his common sense.

                “W-well if you can’t get out, I won’t either!”  Leola sighed, stepping between Ray and the Doctor to kiss him on his lips, hands cupping his cheeks firmly before breaking the kiss, her eyes staring into his own.  “Leola…”

                “I’m okay with this.  I’ve accepted it, and lived with it.  You, however, have a choice.”  She smiled that sweet, tender smile, Ray shaking in her gentle grasp as he shook his head.  “Ray, your willingness to sacrifice for me is sweet, but you’ve suffered enough.  Let the Doctor do his work, okay?  For me?”  Ray bit his lip in silent protest for a few moments, Leola never breaking her gaze from his eyes.  He finally relented and gave a careful nod, Leola kissing his forehead again.  “Thank you.”  She stepped aside, the Doctor standing there with the cutters at the ready.

                “Okay, Doc.  What do you need from me?”  Ray murmured softly, feeling conflicted in his heart that he would be free, while Leo may be that way for years to come, if not longer.  It didn’t feel fair.  The feline smiled and smacked the cutters in his gloved hands, setting them aside.

                “First of all, spread your legs for me.  I’m going to have to put the speculum back in.”  Ray complied, the speculum returning to its position and slowly expanded those first five clicks, the doctor hesitating before clicking it open a sixth time, that yelp of pain coming back from Ray.  “Can you hold this for me, or is it too painful?  Ray hissed and nodded several times.

                “I can handle it, just go, just go!”  The emerald turtle hissed, Leola pacing nervously as the doctor slowly insider the bolt cutters with one hand, the other balancing the otoscope over the cutting site at the glans of his cock, the bottom of the piercing, and wedging the cutter into place.

                “On three.  One, two…three!”  Ralph squeaked in pain as the cutters twisted the ring slightly, the feline’s hand shaking as he applied as much pressure as he could before a sudden _TING_ echoed loudly, the pressure suddenly disappearing entirely from his slit.  The Doctor hastily removed the cutters and speculum, Ray panting for air as the pain subsided.  “Alright, now the delicate part.  The cage was originally three pieces, but they’re all glued together in there.  I’ve got to pull it out as one, single piece, so bear with me and stay still.”  Ray nodded as those gloved hands dipped into his slit, the right side of the cage slowly lifting up and away from his flesh, the snipped piercing still wedged in his cock.  The stinging hurt to be sure, but the feline was gentle, slowly prying the surgical steel from its resting area and guiding the right edge out over the lips of his slit, Ray wrenching his eyes closed.  “Alright, now the hard part.  You’ll feel discomfort, but you speak up the second I cause pain, okay?”  Ray nodded sharply, a gloved hand reaching beneath the cage and into the portion holding the cock, very carefully withdrawing the snipped ring through Ray’s urethra and out the end, taking care not to let the sharp metal scrape or press against the flesh there.  Ray hissed and ground his teeth together as it was pulled entirely free, the left half of the cage lifting out without any trouble.  “There.  All done.  Want a ring put back in the piercing?”

                “NO!” Ray shouted, the doctor chuckling.  “Sorry, I mean, uh…n-no. No, I don’t want a ring there.  Or a barbell, or a cage, or anything ever again inside of my cock.  Just…no.”  The doctor nodded and put his tools away, holding up the wire cage for all to see, its steel immaculately clean and perfectly glued together, a single snip of the ring all it took to remove it with surgical precision.  “That fucking thing has been inside me for ten years?”  The feline nodded.  “Hey, Leola, may I make a request?”  She nodded to Ray approvingly.  “Doc, how hard is it to melt that down and refashion it?”

                “Not hard, if you know the right foundry.  Why?”  Ray smiled, looking up at Leola.

                “Just curious.  Uh, Leola, can you-“  She nodded again with a smile, an inkling of what Ray was up to with it.

                “I’ll put you in touch with our manufacturing arm.  We can have it done discreetly for you, no problem, and you can keep it a secret if you like.”  Ray beamed with pride, the doctor packing up his heavier tools, breaking out some antiseptic and cotton swabs.  “Doctor, what’s the care until it heals?”

                “Disinfect it after every urination, shower twice daily, and no baths and no sex until two weeks _after_ the hole has fully sealed over the glans.  There will be some extreme sensitivity issues, and possibly some erectile dysfunction, but…” He looked at the two turtles, a soft smile across his lips.  “I think you’ll be just fine, Mister Ray.”  The emerald turtle let the doctor disinfect his freed cock, jumping at the surprising sensitivity of the flesh there, even as the alcohol-based antiseptic stung like hell on his piercing.  Blood rushed to the freed length as arousal took hold, the doctor letting out a chuckle as he withdrew from the slit.  “Oh, and if you’re going to masturbate, clean immediately after.”  Ray nodded eagerly at that, shuddering as his fingers wrapped around his rapidly stiffening member, groaning at the foreign sensation of touch against it.  “I should go.  Looks like you two will be busy.  Madame Leola, call me if you need my assistance again, and best of luck with your own.”  Leola waved to the feline as he showed himself out, Ray unable to help himself as he gave his erection a few strokes, weak in the knees.

                “You’ve got a nice cock.”  Leola quipped, Ray blushing as he stroked it again.  “How does it feel?  To be free, I mean.”  Ray smiled wide, letting out a heavy sigh.

                “Not as good knowing you’re still trapped in hell.”  Leola strode over to his side and sat down next to him, tracing one of her fingers around Ray’s tip.  “I can’t remember the last time I came.”  Leola smiled as her fingers encircled Ray’s length, stroking it softly, the other turtle churring loudly and leaning back on the sofa.

                “Me neither.”  The words were honest, though Leola regretted them instantly as Ray began to soften some after they left her lips, her grip tightening and pumping quickly to force it back to full erection.  “Ah ah.  This is my treat, if you don’t mind.”  Ray smirked dejectedly at her, raising his hands in surrender and letting Leola have her way.  Her fingers loosened her grip as she stroked the length tenderly, knowing full well that he’d explode with just the right touch after so long in denial.  Her skin tickled under his glans which in turn made him squeak and tense up, cock twitching as he clenched.  “How close are you, Ray?”

                “I-I don’t know.  Everything feels so…awesome down there.  AH!” He gasped as her fingers twirled around the head of his shaft, pre oozing from the tip and his piercing both, Leola resisting the urge to flat out go down on him.  “J-jesus, Leo…”

                “La.  Leola.”  She churred sensually up at him as she got down on her knees between his legs, her idle hand stroking at her own slit while her tongue ran under the length of his erection, just avoiding the sore piercing hole in the process, Ray squirming on the seat.  She pulled back and used her saliva as makeshift lube, slickening the flesh there for easier stroking and sliding, Ray actually bucking his hips into her grasp.  “You going to cum for me, Ray?” He nodded in between husked moans, rolling his hips into Leola’s palm as she stroked him at a steady rhythm, his own pace increasing even as hers remained consistent, letting him draw it out as long as he liked.  Ray clearly just wanted to feel the afterglow of a climax again, however, as within moments he was bending his knees inward and gripping the sofa hard, a loud moan of ecstasy filling the room as his length erupted with large spurts of seed, coating his stomach and lower chest as Leola churred in approval, stroking it until he stopped spurting and instead just oozed, his hands reaching out to try and bat her own away as he became overly sensitive to touch.

                Leola leaned forward and lapped at the spunk on his chest with her tongue, licking up several globs and swallowing them hungrily, dragging her tongue along his plastron.  Ray’s body began to relax on the couch as the afterglow seized him, Leola rising to her feet after a moment of savoring her partner’s taste.  “Let me get you a damp towel and wipe you off.”  She smiled, feet skimming the carpet while Ray recovered in relative silence, the occasional groan of post-orgasm bliss rumbling over his lips while cum seeped from his cock and piercing, mind swimming from the pent-up rush of hormones and endorphins.   She returned to find his eyes closed and nostrils flaring, the turtle having slipped into a light nap, and understandably so.  She delicately wiped the mess from him until he was thoroughly clean, his cock hanging flaccid in her grasp as she tucked it back into his slit.  Despite her own, burning need, she was happy she could see his first climax, and taste the somewhat sweet spunk of the man she’d been attracted to for so long.  She draped a nearby blanket over him as he slept, kissing his forehead.  “I love you, Ray.”


	3. Purple Diamond, part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donatello finds himself playing defense for a change, against Leola's fierce attack.

                Donatello’s fist quivered with rage as the police departed his penthouse apartment.  That idiot bear had mixed himself up with Hashigo-san’s _wife_ of all people, and dared to pull his stun gun out in front of every camera in the city.  To make matters worse, Raphaela wasn’t returning any of his frantic calls.  He thought he settled this whole mess five years ago when he sold off that ignorant tramp to Hashigo-san, but something clearly must have come up after the rat’s passing – perhaps an internal power struggle?  Or maybe she’s just a figurehead for whoever is really running the show.  Whatever the reason, the fact Raphaela wasn’t under his thumb anymore made him furious: nobody, not even Hashigo himself, had any claim to his sister but him.  “Donatello?  Honey?  Is everything alright?”  Michelle’s sweet voice called to him from the piano room, soothing him almost immediately.  He turned and faced her with a smile, slowly sliding over the floors toward her with a soft nod.

                “I’m fine, just an employee getting into a spot of trouble.”  _Ex-employee_ , he thought, missing for a moment the good old days of having people like Boris divided among ten separate fifty gallon drums throughout the city.  He sat beside her on the sofa and slipped his hand down her orange blouse, kissing her cheek.  “Raphaela seems to have run off with someone new.”  Michelle smiled sweetly and returned the kiss with a fiery passion, Donatello’s fingers cupping her plastron’s supple curves and squeezing.  “But as long as you’re at my side, I’m fine, my dear.”  Michelle churred loudly and nuzzled his neck as he groped her body, slowly removing his arm from her blouse and dipping it between her thighs instead, groping the semi-erect cock beneath her skirt.  “You seem excited about something.  Care to share?”

                “Mmm, just loving our new home, really.  It’s large, but so _intimate_ , you know?”  She bit his skin delicately, rolling it around in her teeth.  “So many new places to… _christen_.” She let her tongue drag up Donatello’s neck, the olive turtle shuddering at the touch.  The tower hadn’t been finished yet, but their penthouse was the pride of Boston, higher than any other residence in the city, and afforded them the utmost privacy from any prying eyes.  Donatello had made the transition to legitimate land developer several years ago, and while being legal had its perks, it did mean he lacked flexibility in certain _employment_ regards, and stood to lose substantially more, should his past be outed.   Thankfully, a handful of payoffs to the right hands assured that every incriminating document or person was dealt with properly, and his safety assured.  Everyone except one, it seemed.  “Donatello?”  He turned to Michelle again, her face showing genuine concern, a rare sight since her reconditioning.

                “I’m sorry, I’ve just got my mind on business matters.”  He stood up, kissing Michelle’s orange lips, the lipstick peeling off on his own.  “You look beautiful, by the way.”  She beamed up at him and folded her legs, teasing him slightly with the tips of her toes.  “Mmm, I wish I could, but I’ve really got to take care of some things.”  Michelle pouted as Donatello left the room, meandering the halls to his private office and locking himself inside.  A press of a button by the door fired up a noise canceller, something he used only when dealing with sensitive matters like this.  “Call Hashigo-san.”  The speakerphone for the room dialed and connected the call, the dial tone ringing incessantly, not even transferring to voicemail as he expected.  The line was private, unique to Hashigo, a guaranteed method of contacting him or his appointed successor.  There was a soft click as the call connected, followed by silence.  “To whom am I speaking?”  The call was silent, and for a moment Donatello thought the call hadn’t actually connected, but was instead silently dropped.

                “Hello, Donatello.”  The voice was sultry, yet commanding, a hint of familiarity on it.  “I was wondering when you would call and pay your respects to my husband.”  Donatello’s rage returned as he froze in place, lips curling.

                “Leola.”  He sneered.

                “Mmhmm.  What can I do for you?”  The voice sounded sincere, though he knew it was a ploy.  “Come now, I’ve got a press conference to get to, so if you have business to discuss, you have my ear.”  Donatello fidgeted with his fingers nervously, not used to being in a defensive position like this.

                “Return my sister at once.”  There was a tsk-tsking over the call, the olive turtle rolling his eyes.  “Raphaela is my _sister_ , _Leola_.  Return her to me at once or I’ll call the police.”

                “Your _brother_ is here of _his_ free will, and quite comfortable, I might add.  _He_ will return when _he_ wishes, and not a moment sooner.”  Donatello resisted the urge to swear or punch his desk, that fucking terrapin ruining his family once again.  “If there’s nothing left to discuss, I’m going to be late.”

                “Don’t you wish to know of your brother?” Donatello quipped sharply, hoping to pluck at Leola’s heartstrings.

                “As far as I’m concerned, my brother died five years ago.  Until you prove otherwise, I’ve nothing to say to you.”  The voice was colder than any Donatello had heard before, other than that of Hashigo’s himself, words piercing him like icy daggers.  “Goodbye, Donatello.  Oh, and you might want to turn to channel ten.”  The line went dead, Donatello realizing his fists were clenched so hard that his nails had broken skin, a drop of blood landing on the pristine wood floor.  That _fucking whore_ had taken his Raphaela from him, he _knew it_ , and he was going to _fucking murder her_.  Actually, no, he wasn’t going to do that.  She was far too valuable to kill, or destroy, or abduct or dispose of.  No, she was _perfect_ to be _controlled_ , her empire and all.  If she wanted proof of Mike – no, _Michelle’s_ safety, then so be it.  He turned the television on to the appropriate channel, his cock twitching at the sight of Leola on a press stage, dressed in a formal kimono and beautiful makeup tattoos on her face, flashbulbs going off from the crowd of journalists gathered.

                _I’d like to thank you all for gathering on such short notice.  As you’re no doubt aware, my husband, Hashigo Yoshi, passed away last month due to complications of metastatic kidney cancer.  On his death bed, he appointed me as the sole successor to his empire, and controller and chairwoman of all its assets._   Donatello growled under his breath.  _As proud as I am of my husband’s accomplishments, I am now tasked to bring the company into the modern era.  Which is why I’m pleased to announce a partnership between Four Seasons Hotels, and the flag carriers of Korea, Japan, and Hong Kong airlines._ Donatello’s eyes widened, glancing at his stack of contracts on his desk, muting the press conference.  “Call Luca, NOW!”  The phone dialed, Leola gesturing to marketing copy on an accompanying slide, the call connecting.  “LUCA! Are you watching channel ten?”

                “I am.  This is a surprise.”  The croc on the other end was calm, even as Donatello’s rage boiled over and he finally punched his desk, knuckles cracking against the wood.  “You sound upset, but I wouldn’t worry.  Your market is stubbornly loyal to you as-is, and-“

                “I don’t care about my _existing_ market, I _care_ about my _expanding market_ , you leather-skinned IDIOT!  I just deficit financed not one, not two, but _three goddamn towers_ because I expected _growth_!”  The turtle seethed, the line silent.  “I want you to get me those contracts she signed, and see what the impact is.  Then I want you to cast doubt on her succession.  Hashigo and I had some old non-competes, I think, so dig those up, whatever you can to STOP HER!”  The line was still silent, Donatello slamming the phone on the desk angrily.  “HELLO!? CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

                “Perfectly fine, though you have a larger problem.”

                “A bigger problem than bankruptcy?  Really?  Do tell, Luca, I’m ALL FUCKING EARS.”

                “Look at the screen.  She just appointed Ray Integra as her new operations officer for the deal.”  Donatello’s heart sank at those words, a name he’d not used in ten years.  He turned toward the screen in shock, his _brother_ standing on stage in a three piece suit, red tie dangling around his neck, the widest smile he’d ever seen across his face, a look of pure joy.  Leola raised their hands high and waved to the crowd, Donatello assessing his options.  “What would you have me do?  This is a problem, a big one.”

                “Discredit her.  Nuclear option.  I want that company to disown her as some whore, out her as a sex slave if you need to.”  Donatello whispered hesitantly, eyes darting back and forth as he searched his mind for options.  “Even if it means tarnishing Hashigo.  Start a power struggle, I don’t care.  That deal cannot stand, and neither can she.”  The line disconnected from the croc’s end, Donatello left in the silence of his office, the sharp realization that Leola was out to destroy everything he owned dawning on him, and that she had even preliminarily sacrificed her own brother as a pawn for her goals.  Donatello’s cards were limited, small, risky, and had a low chance of success.

                He _had_ to win.  He _had_ to.

                Turning off everything in his office and heading back into the penthouse proper, he found Michelle curled up on the floor in tears, eyes wide and glassy.  He bolted by her side and cradled her head in his lap, tenderly stroking her chin and looking for whatever triggered her PTSD again.  “Shh, shh, Donatello is here baby.  You’re fine.”  The illness had been both a blessing and a curse in their forced relationship, making it possible for him to turn her to his side so easily in the first place, but mandating particular care in how she was handled throughout the day.  An explosion, a car backfiring, an overly-loud subwoofer, anything resembling a bomb going off was enough to send Michelle’s mind racing back to that day at the Marathon, a homemade bomb ripping her Dad to pieces in front of her eyes.  He’d used the frequent flashbacks to convince her Leo had died in it as well, that he’d cared for her since then, layering memory after memory on top of the false base like a tower of cards.  Their first date, her desire to transition, her love to him, everything was fake, yet oh so real to her.  Of course, it meant deliberately and repeatedly triggering her for several weeks until it all took hold, undoing her years of therapy and stopping her medications to get this far, but the odd breakdown made it worthwhile to him even if her tears tugged at his heart.  “You’re fine, I’m right here.”  Her hands gripped his shirt tightly, gaze snapping up to meet his.

                “I miss them, Donatello.”  He cooed down at her softly, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

                “I know, Michelle.  I know.  I’ve got you, it’s okay, it was just a memory.  You’re safe here, alright?”  She nodded slowly and took comfort in Donatello’s lap, curling up tighter against him as he smiled down at her, wiping the tears from her eyes.  “That’s my girl.”  The two sat there in the quiet of the house, Donatello feeling Michelle’s heartbeat slow from its flat out race earlier, the panic attack subsiding.  She soon picked herself up off the floor and kissed Donatello’s forehead, the olive turtle churring at her fragile touch.  “I love you, you know.”

                “I love you too.  Did you…hit something in there?  I was going to come ask what you wanted for dinner, then…yeah.”  She trailed off, Donatello smacking his forehead where the kiss had been.  Slamming his desk would definitely come off like an explosion, and was almost certainly her trigger this time around.  He made a mental note to curtail his temper going forward, at least around his wife.  “Anyway, let’s…let’s order a pizza, ok?  I’m still a little nervous, so handling a knife is probably a bad idea.”  Donatello chuckled and rose up as well, grabbing and squeezing her hands.

                “We’ve not had pizza in a while.  A bit common, but delicious nonetheless.  Mind ordering for us?”  Michelle nodded and returned the squeeze firmly before trotting off toward the kitchen, Donatello leaning back against his office doors, plotting his next move.  _If Leola wants proof of life_ , he mused, _then perhaps I should show him the painful truth_.  Michelle’s handicap may just turn out to be his greatest asset after all.


	4. Blue Diamond, part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leola holds a press conference, and sets her plan in motion.

                Leola smirked at Ray as the emerald turtle huffed, blue prints scattered all over his body from Leola’s successful punches.  “Come on, slowpoke, hit me already!”  Ray growled and rushed at her full-on again, his red gloves missing her repeatedly as she flowed around the room with grace and agility, tapping his exposed weak points after each punch.  “You’re leaving yourself exposed, Ray.  Weren’t you an athlete?”  The emerald turtle jumped back and pivoted, fists raised as he caught his breath and remained on guard.

                “Yeah, but I played football, not boxing, and I didn’t practice for years like you.”  He leapt at her with a left straight, Leola dodging it effortlessly to Ray’s left, preventing his right hook from connecting in a follow-up.  “Football players were strong, not fast.  Trying to hit you is like trying to tackle a wasp!”  He snarled, pivoting again and throwing another wild punch, Leola’s marking glove connecting with his shoulder and leaving another paint mark there.  She tut-tutted silently at him, Ray dropping his guard for a moment.  “I have an idea.  You only said I had to hit you, right?”  Leola nodded, grinning as he finally caught on, his stance lowering as he spread his feet, preparing to grapple.  “Good.”  Ray dashed toward her with his left shoulder out front, Leola dodging around his left again to tag his shell, a hit sacrificed for his real attack.  He began leaning back towards her and placing his weight on his right side, his right arm reaching behind him to block her continued evasion that way, his shell’s weight stopping her mid-stride.  Leola went a bit wide-eyed as his heavy form knocked her off balance, Ray’s weight pushing her down to the floor with a hefty thud, his right elbow jabbing her arm as they collapsed together.  She quickly rolled to her right to try and get out from under him, Ray rolling with her and grabbing her left wrist with his right hand, pinning her down with a grin.  “Gotcha!”

                “I could get free, you know.”  Leola grinned back.  “In fact, let me show you!”  She pulled her knees up to her chest under him and forcibly kicked her heels into his plastron, the emerald turtle’s grasp relenting at the pain before the force knocked him clear off of her, Leola tumbling feet-over-head and onto her feet, ready to fight again.  “See?  Easy.”  Ray huffed as he clutched his stomach, massaging the pain there with one hand while pointing at her with the other.

                “I gotcha first, babe.”  He chuckled, Leola reaching up to touch her neck, red marking powder rubbing off onto her finger.  “See?  Fatal blow, too.”  Leola looked a bit flustered at that, attempting to rub the mark away.

                “I didn’t even feel that!  You sure you didn’t wrestle at all?”  Ray shook his head as he picked himself up off the floor, laughing a little at her frustration.  “Hmph.  So you’re a decent grappler.  Dad would’ve loved ya, probably dragged you off to some wrestling match.”  She sighed wistfully at the pleasant recollection, shucking off the marking gloves and tossing them onto a towel, Ray carefully removing his own.  “So, shower?”

                “Thought you’d never ask.  Gonna blow me again?”  It was less a comment and more of a serious question, Leola grinning wide but ultimately shaking her head.  “Aw, tease.”  They’d been working out all morning, or ‘sparring’ as Leola put it, teaching Ray some basic self-defense and offense moves in the event of a repeat performance by Boris or Donatello’s men.  Leola would almost certainly handle the brunt of things, but if Ray could make sure he wouldn’t become an inadvertent victim, that was a much needed bonus.  A day of sparring wouldn’t make him a fighter, but it would give Leola some peace of mind.

                _Breaking news from Tokyo today, as the late Hashigo Yoshi has been accused of child molestation and human trafficking by the property magnate Donatello Hamon._ Leola and Ray both paused as the radio blared, Ray’s eyes going wide with shock while Leola remained stoic and blank.  _Mister Hamon accused the late billionaire of molesting him as a child, and that when he saw his sister with the widowed Leola Yoshi, he acted in her interests to recover her safely.  The police have taken Donatello’s deposition on the matter, and are reportedly seeking an interview with Miss Leola immediately.  The FBI has also become involved, and Tokyo Metropolitan Police have raided-._   Leola turned off the radio and hustled to the bathroom, Ray left looking confused.  “Come, we must prepare for the next act.”

                “You make it sound like this was expected!  What the fuck, Leola?!”  Ray snapped, fists clenched as he stood nude in the middle of the bedroom, Leola twisting the shower on and stepping inside.  “Well?!  You mean to tell me you know of his shit and didn’t do anything about it?!”  Leola didn’t reply immediately, water splattering on the tiled floor as she cleaned the sweat and paint from her skin and shell, mind racing with plans for the police upon their arrival.  She had been placed on the defensive again almost immediately after her last move, though Donatello had no idea he’d walked right into Leola’s trap.  “LEOLA!”  Ray shouted angrily from the bedroom again, yanking her back into the moment.

                “I…sorry.  I was thinking.”  She paused, warm water rolling over her skin and washing the soap away.  “I did.  You don’t spend five years doting on a man and not learn his dark secrets.  This was planned, but not so soon.  Truth be told, I was expecting a bit more of a fight from that deviant, but if he wants to jump right into my trap, so be it.”  She heard Ray approaching the bathroom cautiously, turning to face him with a reassuring smile.  “Come, let’s wash off.  You’ve got a huge part in the next act, and I want you looking fabulous.”

                “Am I just a pawn in all this?”  Ray’s fists clenched while his voice was hushed, his gaze down at the floor hiding the bubbling shame and resentment.  “Are you using me, Leola?”  Her hands snatched out of the shower and grasped his cheeks firmly, forcing his gaze to meet hers, her sapphire eyes drilling fiercely into his own.

                “I would never, ever do that to you if I had any other option.  You mean the world to me, Ray.  I mean it.”  Her fingers trembled, Ray’s mouth slightly agape.  “If you want to leave me after this, I will give you as much money as you need.  I just want us all to be happy, no matter what form that happiness takes.  Okay?”  Ray’s eyes welled up with tears, his fists loosening before wiping them away with a sniffle, Leola pulling him into the shower with her and cradling his head against her plastron, stroking it softly.  “I love you.  Do not mistake this unfortunate game we must play for my true feelings for you.  I would and will do anything for you, just as I do for Mike.  Don’t you ever think otherwise.”  Ray nodded meekly against her chest, slowly pulling away after a moment.

                “I got paint on you.”  Leola chuckled, slipping a puck of soap into his palms.

                “Then get me clean again.”

* * *

                Leola and Ray both stared at the gathered reporters and police alike, their hearts beating rapidly with mounting anxiety.  Leola had filled him in on their plan of action, and it gave Ray immense unease.  “Are you sure you have to out me?  Out _us_?”  The question alluded to a fraction of their combined anxiety, Leola visibly swallowing before nodding in silence.  “Alright.  I trust you babe, so lead the way.  I’ve got your back.”  The two marched toward the crowd, bodyguards around them as Leola stepped in front of a setup podium, a single USB key in her hand.  Her blue formal dress hung tight to her body as she entered the brisk air of the city, Ray’s suit from the prior press conference hanging just as neatly as before over his well-built musculature.  Flashbulbs went off like grenades as shutters clicked aloud, each one capturing an instant in time as they both began wading deeper into the proverbial pool.  Ray looked nervously at her one more time, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before she retracted it, placing both on the podium.

                “Thank you all for being here today.  Before I begin, I would like to introduce Mister Ray Integra.  Many of you may know him as the new Operations Officer for my companies’ partnerships with this hotelier, and in the coming moments, he too will speak on the record.”  Ray stepped forward on cue, giving a polite nod to the audience before stepping back once more.  “Earlier today, a man by the name of Donatello Hamon made the claims that my late husband was involved in illegal activities involving the trafficking and abuse of persons underage.  It is with great sadness that I confirm these accusations.”  The crowd leapt into a furor of questions and camera shots, Leola and Ray both remaining silent for a moment before she delicately raised her hand to silence them, continuing her prepared remarks.  “Prior to his passing, he confessed of these sins and more to myself, as well as a small gathering of his most trusted advisors.  Despite him not participating in these markets for half a decade prior to his death, he is ultimately responsible for the creation and expansion of these horrible enterprises, using many of his enterprises as cover for their true operations.”  Police officers started looking at each other in disgust and whispering amongst themselves, no doubt contemplating an arrest.  “Here in my possession is a USB key containing the audio recording of that night.  Could Detective Jones please step forward?”  A large primate in a tattered suit stepped forward, badge prominently over his heart and an evidence bag in his hands, Leola dumping the key within.  “I turn it over to the authorities for a full examination of its contents, and encourage all due speed and accuracy in their work to come.  Crimes have been committed, and those culpable should be punished.”  The ape glared at Leola as he pocketed the drive in his coat, immediately disappearing back into the crowd as other police inched ever closer.

                “Understandably, my own trustworthiness has been drawn into question, given the heinous nature of these accusations.  I can confidently state that I, at no time, willingly participated in, or accompanied him in these acts, and I will show you why here today.”  She stretched her hand out to Ray, who turned over a wet wipe on cue, still in its package.  “This is a wet wipe, and it will prove not only my innocence, but Mister Integra’s as well.”  The crowd murmured in disbelief as she removed it from its pouch, lenses zooming in for a better look of the theatrics as she placed the unfolded wipe on her face, scrubbing vigorously at the makeup there.  The loud din of the crowd grew hushed as she withdrew it, her makeup impeccably neat and pure despite the scrubbing.  “As you can see, my makeup is, sadly, permanent.  I was his last trafficking victim before he left the enterprise altogether, a little over five years ago.  A local businessman sold me into his possession in exchange for legitimacy, and I was forcibly enslaved as his wife.”  She handed the still-damp wipe over to Ray in full view of the cameras, whisperings of doubt on the air.  “Mister Integra will now prove his innocence as well.  Please watch carefully.”

                Ray’s fingers trembled as he put the cloth to his face and lightly wiped at it, the green foundation coming clean of his skin and revealing his own tattoos beneath, those ruby red lips and eyeshadow shining bright under the glare of the lights, the furor erupting with renewed zeal as he held up the soiled cloth.  “I, too, was a victim of this scheme.  Leola wasn’t trying to kidnap Raphela Hamon, she was freeing Ray Integra.”  Leola grabbed a corner of the cloth with her fingers and raised it higher for all to see, both of them finally outed to the world.  “Leola is a wonderful, compassionate person, who is using her position and wealth to slowly heal the wounds created by her late husband.  We will both cooperate fully with the investigation of police both domestic and abroad, in the hopes of rescuing those we can, and arresting those who carried out these heinous acts.”

                Leola smiled at him with that reassuring smile of hers, turning back to the crowd for a final time.  “In order to best accomplish these goals, I would like to introduce someone who will be of critical importance to the international investigation.  He did work for my late husband for decades, overseeing transactions, accounting, and bookkeeping for almost every company and absolutely every last yen the enterprise earned as a whole, and will be invaluable in finding trails for the police to follow through on.”  Leola and Ray both stepped aside as a large crocodilian form emerged behind them, the aqua-scaled beast dressed neatly in a three piece suit, thick classes on top of his snout and handcuffs around his wrists, a federal police officer on either side of him holding his arms.  “This is L.H. Franklin, and he has surrendered himself to police custody voluntarily.”  Cameras screamed as reporters hollered questions at the trio, Leola doing her best not to smile toward the crowd or otherwise look gloating.

                _Check, Donatello.  Mate in two moves_.


	5. Memories of Red Diamond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle, Leola and Ray meet together at last, a story shared between them setting the stage for the final act.

                Michelle paced the hall nervously, platform heels clicking against the marble floor with a noticeable echo.  Donatello had been arrested a scant twelve hours ago and led from the house in handcuffs, his last words to her reverberating in her mind.  _I’m innocent, and Raphaela is lying to you.  Trust me._   A firm set of knocks came from the door, Michelle flinging it open to greet her husband with elation, and quickly frowning at the two terrapins smiling at her.  “Madame Leola.  Mister Integra.  I think you two should leave.”  Her heart panged in her chest at the sight of Leola, strings nestled in the back of her mind being delicately plucked by her sight alone, a thought hastily dismissed as Mister Integra stepped forward, offering his hands to her.

                “C’mon Michelle, you know it’s me, Raphaela.”  The voice was soft and sincere, a sweet smile on his beak.  “May we come in?  Please?”  Michelle took a step back and folded her arms, Ray and Leola staying beyond the threshold.

                “Raphaela lives here, and can come and go as she pleases.  If you’re really her, then why are you asking my permission?”  Ray turned to Leola for advice, the turtle in blue giving a noncommittal shrug and grin, Ray’s amber eyes rolling so hard they may fall from their sockets.  “Well?”

                Ray kept his hands in sight, sighing outwardly.  “Your opinion matters to me, Michelle.  It always has.  If you want us to go, we’ll go.”  Ray patted Leola’s shell and turned to leave, Michelle’s arm snatching forward to grab at Ray’s hand and squeeze tight.  “Michelle?”

                “Don’t go.  I…”  She bit her lip and gnawed on it, thinking of how to invite them both in without betraying Donatello’s trust.  He’d know immediately if she let them inside, and he’d undoubtedly be furious, but something just didn’t sit right with her about this whole ordeal, and she needed more information about what really happened.  “I want to hear your story, Raphaela.  If you believe Donatello has abused you…I want to know why.”  Her gaze turned toward Leola, who had remained silent thus far.  “Without her.  She can come in, but this is between you and me, okay?  I’ll know if you’re lying.”  Ray smiled and turned toward her, nodding in agreement.  “Madame Leola, please come in and take a seat.  We won’t be too long.”  The taller turtle graciously bowed, following the two into the penthouse and sitting on a nearby bench, folding her legs in such a way to briefly expose herself, a glittering sapphire mounted above her slit before the candy blue dress draped over her thighs and covered it once more.  Michelle and Ray walked hand-in-hand to the nearby parlor room, the emerald turtle taking a seat on the antique sofa as Michelle locked the heavy doors behind them.  “So…”  She murmured, approaching a chair and sitting down, taking care to fluff her dress out behind her to avoid wrinkles, her bare bottom sinking into the plush padding.  “I suppose I should start with your real name.”

                “Ray Integra.  That is my real name.”  Michelle gnawed on her lip as she studied him, the turtle completely relaxed as he spoke.  “Would you like to know when the abuse started?”  She paused, contemplating making him relive a traumatic moment, but ultimately relenting.  She needed to know his side of the story, to truly understand the source of all this pain and anguish of late, and her role, if any, in it all.  She ultimately nodded, Ray taking a deep breath as tension filled his fists, mind slowly rewinding back to the moment he realized he was a victim, words flowing from his lips with a confident hesitation – words that needed to be said, even as they brought him great pain to admit.  “Our parents died when I was still in High School.  Donatello took care of me, helped keep my grades up, the bills paid, food in our stomachs.  I never asked how, since he didn’t seem to work a job or anything.”  Michelle crossed her legs and reclined in her seat, settling in for the tale while keeping careful observation on her guest, determined to find a crack in his words and exploit it to save her husband.  “I was nineteen, almost.  School was finished, summer was in full swing, and I was contemplating community college.  Donatello kept telling me things would be fine, to relax, take some time off.  We’d both worked so hard after our parents died, and he’d been so good to me.  I wanted to show him my appreciation…”

* * *

                Ray grinned as he crept up behind his elder brother, his thick arms circling around Don’s waist and squeezing tight, his tongue dragging up the side of the olive turtle’s neck.  “Hey D.  What’cha doin?”  The question was rhetorical, a distraction layered atop the sensual teasing he was applying to him, his crotch grinding against Don’s ass.  The taller turtle clasped the book he was reading shut with an audible churr, craning his neck to give Ray as much opening as he wanted, and one he gladly took advantage of with a teasing bite.

                “Mnnn.  I was just reading, is all.  How’s my slutty little brother doing, hmn?  You seem pretty excited.”  Don reached around to squeeze Ray’s loins through his gym shorts, the tip of the Prince Albert piercing poking beyond his slit, the lips of which were already engorged with blood from his arousal.  It had been his gift to Ray for his eighteenth birthday, something Ray had always talked about as being a sign of ‘coolness’.  The smaller brother returned the grope with another grind, slowly pulling away thereafter.

                “I am.  Been pent up as fuck, and I was hoping you could help me with it.”  Ray grinned, Donatello slowly standing up from the sofa in his usual nudity, making him feel a tad over dressed in his wife beater and gym shorts.  His older brother swayed over to him and pressed him back against the wall, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss, tongues twisting together as their brotherly love gave way to sexual intimacy.  Ray’s length hardened into a full erection, his crotch bucking forward to press against Donatello’s, who himself was equally aroused.  The kiss broke with Donatello stepping back, gripping his erection.

                “Meet me in my bedroom.  I’ve got a surprise for you, now that your piercing is healed.”  Ray grinned giddily as Don strode off towards his private bedroom, his cock throbbing at the sight of that supple ass.  Don had been teasing his own cherry popping for a while now, saying that as soon as Ray was healed up, he’d get to take a crack at it with that piercing of his, and it was an offer Ray constantly reminded him of as he made progress.  He peeled out of his minimal clothes with haste, tossing them in his punk rock styled room before grabbing his bottle of lube from his dresser drawer and bounding towards Don’s room, pushing inside with eager anticipation.  The bed had been made and sheets pulled tight, restraints at each corner ready and waiting for Ray, old friends seeking his company as Donatello placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Go on, assume the position, you filthy little slut.”  Ray shuddered at the title and leapt onto the bed, shell dimpling down into the plush mattress as Donatello plucked the bottle of lube he’d brought with him, setting it aside.  “We’re going to be emptying this bottle today, I guarantee it.”  Ray hissed with delight as his limbs were slowly pulled taut and secured into their cuffs, leaving him spread eagled and highly vulnerable on the bed, that usual blindfold quickly being secured over his head to rob him of sight and heighten his other senses.  Ever since Don introduced him to BDSM, he’d been a huge fan of the idea of being used like a sex object, especially by his older brother, even though it took a lot of convincing initially.  He felt his brother’s fingers curl around his length and give it a few strokes, a moan escaping from his lips as he bucked into the grip.  “Open up for me, Ray.”  He opened his jaw as instructed, a gag secured in and over his mouth, a hollow opening in the center for breathing and insertion play.  They’d agreed that consent was implied with the gag in place when they started, Don making it clear that it would only heighten their enjoyment from the act as it implied helplessness, even though they both agreed that if they invoked the safeword beforehand that it wouldn’t be used, a sort of out in the event one of them didn’t like where things were going.  With the gag secured, though, Ray was entirely at his brother’s mercy, and the pre dribbling from his cock made it clear he was okay with this idea.

                The all too familiar feel of his brother’s lube-slick fingers probing his ass brought very little disappointment, having hoped he would have his cock ridden by his elder sibling now that his piercing was permanent, but assuming it was merely a warmup for the main event.  Priming his ass took little effort, the routine highly practiced by both over repeated couplings, and within moments Don was pushing his length inside of his younger brother with a delighted hiss, one reciprocated by Ray in earnest.  He hilted swiftly before starting a thrusting motion, loud moans muffled by the thick gag between his teeth and covering his lips.  “Yes, that’s my good little whore.”  The dirty talk had been relatively recent, but Ray hadn’t stopped him, the words igniting a sort of slutty passion for sex inside him and coaxing an increased frequency of intercourse between the two of them, and this time was no different to him.  Dry fingers circled around his cock and gave it a pump in time with Don’s own thrusts, Ray shuddering under his firm grasp and tugging meekly at his bonds, desperate for release.  “You want to cum, slut?”  Ray nodded, the click of the cap on the lube bottle ringing in his ears as Don picked up his pace further, angling himself under Ray’s restrained form to pound at his prostate, his cock twitching in his brother’s grasp as pre spurted from the tip.  “I think you need some more lube, slut.”  Ray nodded fervently in agreement, Don’s deviant smile hidden from his view.  The thrusting reached a fevered pitch as Don focused on his own climax, though not before Ray felt a slick, mineral taste in his mouth, the entirety of his lube bottle upended and wedged into the gag, flowing into his mouth.  He thrashed in his bonds as Don held it firm, forcing him to swallow the lubricant with a resigned whimper even as the fucking continued, Don using some additional lube on Ray’s length to coax him toward orgasm.  The entire act was humiliating and degrading, but Ray had no choice other than to endure and comply with the silent command, swallowing every last drop of the astroglide poured into his mouth like a hungry whore.  His shame and humiliation wasn’t enough to counteract his throbbing erection however, and before long he was spurting hot ropes of cum across his plastron, Donatello gripping his hips and slamming his own cock into his tight ass, panting hard as he approached orgasm.  “T-take it slut.  Take it all!  Ah!  AH!  HAH!”  Don seized as he erupted into Ray’s ass, dumping his load into his younger brother like he’d done so many times before, this one thoroughly emptying his testes of seed as only he knew what came next on their nightly agenda.

                Ray groaned meekly as Don removed the bottle of lube from his gag before pulling free of his younger brother entirely, grinning at the cum and lube covered length between his thighs.  He slowly crawled over Ray’s chest and straddled his neck, turning around to face his restrained brother’s crotch before sinking his fluid-soaked and semi-erect length into the gag and down into Ray’s maw, the turtle squirming under him as his tongue hit the flesh.  “That’s it, clean me up while I give you your surprise.”  Ray resisted at first, this sort of messy play not his thing at all, though his protest was halted quite quickly when Don sat himself back over his nostrils, giving Ray the choice of compliance or suffocation.  “I said clean me, slut.  You’re all nice and lubed there, so get to it.  I want my cock sparkling when I’m done.”  Ray groaned and complied, tongue dragging along Don’s semen and lubricant-coated cock, swallowing the resultant goop as his brother lifted back off his face.  “Good little whore leans quickly.”  The comment stung this time, the tone in Don’s voice changing, but not enough to warrant a cessation just yet.  He trusted Don, and knew whatever happened was because he loved him, which is why he could only moan as those fingers gripped his softening member and tugged it back out of his slit, carefully removing the simple barbell piercing within and tossing it casually across the room, a cool wet wipe cleaning his length diligently before joining the ring nearby.  He felt a new piercing slide into place, a ring this time, before two fingers probed inside of his genital slit and examined it like a Doctor, giving Ray additional pause as to what was going on.  The feel of cool metal was certainly unwelcome, especially as it felt like half a bowl was being wedged into the confines of his slit, pressing his flesh down and out behind his plastron, with his length centered off to one side of it in a peculiar recess.  A similar plate was slide into place along his left side, the two connecting together with surprising ease and leaving his cock in a rigidly centered position, Donatello giving a casual grind of his hips into his lube-slick mouth with a churr.  Ray squirmed a bit as another piece of metal encircled his cock itself, pushing it back into his slit and connecting with the rest of the device, Donatello patting his slit tenderly.  “There we go.  How does your surprise feel?”  Ray groaned and thrust his hips into the air, the pressure within bordering on uncomfortable, yet also strangely arousing in its own right.  “It’s a chastity cage.  Do you know what that is?”  He shook his head, Don’s fingers pressing around the lips of his slit and squeezing them against the cage, its implication becoming clear to him.  “It prevents you from getting erect.  The idea is that if you can’t masturbate, you’ll be forced to seek refuge in your partner.”  The voice was cold, Don’s length surprising hard as he spoke.  “Normally you’d lock this with a key, and when your partner was ready for you to climax, they’d let you out.  I’m your partner, right Ray?”  He nodded meekly and gave his bonds another tug to emphasize his implied consent, his heart racing at the game proposed.  “Will you let me keep you in chastity as long as I like, little brother?”  He nodded again, blood rushing to his cock at the thought of being so completely beholden to his elder like that, the idea astonishingly hot.  He struggled again as he anticipated the click of a padlock, but instead felt Don’s fingers pry his slit apart and some object dip inside, a stick smearing something on the cage at its joints.  “Good little slut.”  He said no more, leaving Ray to his thoughts as the older turtle worked carefully, an occasional moan and struggle heard as Ray tried to coax more play from him.  He felt the stick tap at every nook and granny of the cage repeatedly, including at either end of his new piercing ring before Don’s fingers slowly threaded the locking bead in place, feeling his length pulled up to the tip of the cage and held firmly in place there. 

Don suddenly plucked his length from the gag and pulled himself off his little brother, yanking the blindfold free.  Ray’s amber eyes gazed lustfully at him as Don tossed a package onto the bed, his face blank, a rare sight that made his spine run cold.  His older brother left the room without another word and pulled the door closed, Ray tossing and turning as he was left helpless on the bed in his bonds, driving him wild with more need.  Seeing no further immediate relief, he relaxed on the bed and felt the bonds slacken slightly, his head turning toward the package beside him on the bed to see what the surprise was, eyes squinting as he read the label.

_AutoWeld cures to a dark grey color, is rated at a tensile strength of 900 PSI and will withstand temperatures up to 300ºF.  AutoWeld sets in 5 minutes and after 60 minutes, can be drilled, tapped, machined, ground, filed and painted._

Ray’s eyes went wide as he realized the substance Don used was welding epoxy, thrashing in his bonds as the permanence of his predicament dawned sharply on him.  He cried out for help as best he could around his gag, the bonds giving no slack and the gag muffling even his loudest screams, the bed a comfortable torture chamber as the epoxy slowly cured into its permanent form.  Tears streamed down his cheeks as he repeatedly shouted the safeword, far too late to save himself from the dominant control of his brother, unaware of the horrors yet to come.

* * *

                “And that’s when it started in earnest.”  Ray was looking down at the floor, tears having streaked his cheeks.  “In my mind, I’d consented to it all.  He’d slowly worked that narrative into me, and it stuck for years.  I believed that he only gave me what I wanted, and nothing more.”  Michelle’s face was pale as nausea gripped her stomach, Ray recounting the torment with only a minimum of emotion himself.  “I believed it all.  Until I met Leo.”  A smile spread over his beak, Michelle’s heart racing at that name.

                “You…met my brother?”  She choked back a sob, memories of that painful day trickling through to the forefront of her memory, of that third blast that robbed her brother of his life that day.  “W-when?”  Ray looked up at her with that sympathetic smile, knowing that his next words would break her heart into pieces.  He paused for a moment in thought before answering, the color having raced back into Michelle’s face, either in hope of good news, or of fond memories of their life together before that fateful day.  Ray opened his mouth to answer just before their attention was seized by the bursting of the parlor doors, Donatello throwing Leola into the room angrily.

                “What the _hell_ are you two doing here?!”


	6. White Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nightmare concludes, yet not everyone gets a happy ending...

                Ray leapt up from his seat and glared angrily at Donatello, even as Michelle remained frozen in her chair.  His fists clenched as he surveyed Leola’s collapsed form on the floor, sucking teeth in rage at her ripped dress and bloodied jaw, body tensing up.  “You son of a bitch, if you hurt her…” Donatello stomped over to and snarled down at him, slapping his gloved hand across his face with an audible crack.

                “Don’t talk to your brother like that, you _whore_.” Another slap connected with Ray’s cheek, who took it with a flinch as Michelle jumped up, grabbing Don’s arm.  “Go to your room, Michelle. Now.”  The aqua-colored turtle withered and nodded, releasing Donatello and sulking back towards the doorway, leaving the two siblings chest-to-chest in shared, yet different rage.  Ray maintained eye contact with Donatello in silence for a few moments, the olive turtle finally breaking the silence.  “You betrayed your family, Raphaela.  You betrayed _me_.”

                “I did nothing of the sort.  You’re the one who started this game, twisting my words and getting into my head.”  Donatello slapped him again, a cocky grin creeping across Ray’s face.  “What’s the matter, big brother? Angry that your entire family has abandoned you?  That you’re all alone?”  His eyes widened as his hand wound up for another strike, Ray gut-punching his brother with a sudden blow, Donatello stumbling backward.  “You did this to yourself.  Just because you got hurt by Mom, you’ve been passing it on to the rest of us your entire life.  Everyone has to be as miserable as you, right?”  Ray cold-clocked Donatello on his beak, the taller turtle falling back onto the floor with a shocked expression.  “You _raped_ me, you son of a bitch. You _sold_ me, _assaulted_ me, _branded_ me.  That cage, those tattoos, I didn’t want any of those!”  Ray shouted down at his older brother, cracking his knuckles.  “Then you did it to everyone I ever knew.  You did it to Andrew, to Shane…”  He kicked at Donatello’s crotch, the turtle scooting back just in time to avoid the blow.  “TO LEO!  TO MIKE!”  He stomped again and again, Donatello barely dodging each foot.  “We were INNOCENT, and you RUINED US!”  Ray was so caught up in his anger that he didn’t notice Donatello’s hand wrapping around a lamp cord until the heavy metal lamp toppled onto him, the olive turtle scrambling to his feet and dashing toward the door, jumping over Leola’s body.

                “BORIS!”  Donatello shouted, the angry bear bodyguard bursting into the room with a growl.  “Restrain her!”  The bear lurched toward Ray as Donatello ran deeper into the penthouse, the clearly-outmatched terrapin hesitantly stepping back and evaluating his options.  He didn’t see the blur of green rising from the floor until Boris traded places with Leola’s collapsed form, the now-naked turtle grinning deviously over her opponent.

                “Knew I should hit harder…” The bear grumbled, picking himself back up off the floor Leola fixed in a martial arts pose and ready to attack, her eyes fierce.

                “Go after him, Ray.  I’ve got this meathead.”  Ray’s eyes widened with glee before nodding sharply, running towards the door and past Boris, the bear reaching out to grab his shirt and tug him back into the fray.  Leola’s leg came down on the arm out of Ray’s view, an audible crack as the bone fractured and elicited a yowl of pain from Boris, Ray ignoring the guttural roar before tearing off down the hallway, Leola bouncing on her feet.  “You’re fighting me, you walking rug.  I owe you some payback from when you _kidnapped me_ …”  The bear roared in rage before attacking Leola, Ray putting them both behind him as he rounded a corner, glancing to the right just in time to see Don’s feet disappearing into a doorway, resuming pursuit with his bare feet sticking against the polished hardwood floors.

                “Get back here you son of a-“ A gunshot rang out as he began rounding the corner into the office, wood and drywall splattering into the open air. “SHIT DANNY!”  He dove for cover behind a sofa as another rang out, wedging into the wall opposite the doors.  “I’m still your brother goddamnit!”  He didn’t risk peeking out, eerie silence filling the void of the room, Ray taking stock of his surroundings in detail to try and get any idea of where his brother was looking, aiming, or even what gun he was using, all before realizing that such tactics only work in cheesy action films.  “Daniel?”

                “SHUT UP!” The voice screamed from behind the sofa, another shot just missing his shoulder as it pierced the leather.  “DO NOT CALL ME BY THAT NAME!” Another two shots rang out, one hitting the wall in front of him while the second lodged itself in the sofa proper, the shots wild and unfocused.  Ray covered his head to shield himself from the bullets and debris, wrenching his eyes closed.  “My name is Donatello!  SAY IT!”

                “Your name is Daniel Integra!”  Ray shouted back, laying down on his side just in time for another two shots impact the sofa, one grazing his left ankle and making him wince.  An audible click sounded the emptying of the handgun, Ray springing to action and jumping up off the floor, catapulting himself over the sofa and towards Don, whose gaze was one of confusion as he kept squeezing the trigger of the pistol, eventually throwing it towards Ray as he tackled his brother back against the desk.  “And you’re my piece of shit brother whether you like it or not!”  Ray grasped Daniel’s head and slammed it back against the desk, the olive turtle responding by thrusting his thumbs onto Ray’s eyes and pushing him back.  Ray released his grip and stumbled backward, Daniel taking the gap to throw a punch at his plastron and tackle him down to the floor.  The two struggled on the marble surface for dominance over the other, Daniel punching Ray’s chest and face a few times before Ray is able to get a grip on his brother’s throat, pressing his thumbs against its center and squeezing with all his might.  The color drained from Daniel’s lips rapidly as oxygen was cut off, his attempts at recoiling away from Ray serving only to let the emerald turtle force him back against the desk again, the green foundation wiped from his eyes and revealing the ruby red tattoos beneath.  “Say it!”  Daniel shook his head, Ray pulling back and slamming his head against the desk.  “SAY IT!”  Daniel mustered up a frightened kick into Ray’s genitals, the emerald turtle rolling back and clutching his crotch as Daniel pulled himself upright with a wheeze and cough.

                “I’m…Donatello!  Daniel is dead, as is Ray!”  He seethed, fumbling around on the desk for a weapon of any sort, settling for a letter opener and wrapping his thick fingers around it.  “The Integra family is dead.”  He stumbled over Ray’s doubled-over form, falling to his knees and readying the dull letter opener in his hands as he straddled his sister’s chest.  “Now you’ll join them, Raphaela.”  Ray lashed out and grabbed the knife and Daniel’s wrist as they began to plunge toward his face, biceps bulging as he resisted with all of his might, much to Daniel’s surprise.  “The fuck is this?!  DIE ALREADY!”  Ray’s amber eyes continued to widen as Daniel’s force increased, putting his whole bodyweight behind the thrust even as Ray didn’t let him budge an inch.  Ray grit his teeth as he tried twisting Daniel’s grip to the side or backward, any direction than towards himself, sweat starting to form on his brow as he put his entire strength into the duel, making no progress against Daniel’s superior leverage and weight.

                “Donatello!  Stop!”  Michelle called from the hallway with tears in her eyes, Daniel’s attention diverted just long enough for Ray to twist his grip backward and plunge the letter opener into the plastron, the olive turtle going wide-eyed in shock as Michelle screamed in terror.  Ray panted heavily as Daniel coughed up some blood, a faint whistling from his mouth as his breathing was shallow and quick, his left lung collapsed from the piercing of the letter opener.  Michelle stood there rooted in horror until Leola’s hands clasped reassuringly on her shoulders, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth along with bruises and scrapes from the fight prior.  Ray lay there with determined relief as a faint trickle of blood dripped onto his plastron down the knife, Daniel’s hands shaking towards it to pull it free.

                “Stop it, Danny.  You gotta leave it in for the paramedics.”  Ray pushed Daniel’s hands away, the olive turtle falling back onto his shell and struggling to breath, Ray scrambling to his side.  “Shh, just calm down.  They’re on the way, we’ll get you patched up.”  Leola retrieved a phone from beneath her dress and began dialing 9-1-1, still gripping Michelle tightly as she choked back a sob, the four of them standing in an intense mixture of emotion, no words spoken between as they all contemplated what would come next.

* * *

                _For the wages of sin death; but the gift of God eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord._

                Franklin, as he chose to go by, closed the Bible and set it on his night stand, scaled fingers tracing over its cover.  Time had passed in the blink of an eye since that press conference, ending with his serving a twenty year prison sentence after negotiating a plea deal with the U.S. Attorney.  The large croc had since divulged details on billions of dollars of criminal activity, documenting accounts, shell companies, and even involved persons for the police at every level, even internationally.  He’d made enemies of the most dangerous people on Earth, which is why he specifically asked for his sentence to be served at the Supermax facility in Colorado until everything was concluded.  He’d occupied his time studying religions in search of some sort of forgiveness, finding nothing that truly set his soul at ease, everything seemingly far too forgiving of his sins for his liking.  He glanced at the cheap wristwatch he was allowed to keep on his person, dinner time rapidly approaching to soothe his rumbling stomach.

                The smell of bitter almond permeated the air of his air-tight cell, the croc’s nostrils flaring heavily as his heart sank, his worst fears coming to pass.  His fingers began to twitch and seize as his lungs filled with the hydrogen cyanide being pumped into his cell by whoever had been paid off, his heart beating erratically before stopping entirely, his body going limp and falling to the floor.  He struggled to breathe and move as life faded from his body, blackness conquering his vision as death finally took him in its cold embrace.

                The evening shift guard found his corpse three hours later upon delivering dinner, the large crocodile’s scales having paled due to oxygen deprivation and blood loss, his lower half seemingly completely bruised by the pooling of the blood at the lowest points of his body.  The cause of death was written up as suicide, L.H. Franklin’s body being cremated and disposed of with no next of kin to take possession.

* * *

                The transport van bounced along the bumpy road toward the penitentiary where Donatello would live out his days, his shackles jingling with every lurch and tilt of the armored vehicle.  Following the events in his penthouse and that crocodile’s betrayal, his entire dirty laundry had been aired to the police.  Convicted of a list of charges long enough to fill several pages, he’d earned the horrific moniker of longest prison sentence to be served in history, the only reason he avoided a death penalty being the lack of any bodies or murders.  Even should he live out his sentence here, however, he had been convicted in absentia by half a dozen other countries, all of whom were part of INTERPOL.

                He would never be free again, as long as he walked the Earth.

                The guards surrounding him were silent as the van trundled along, the mood filled with tension and hatred between the occupants.  “So, how much longer will we be driving?”  The guards said nothing, Donatello cracking a small smile.  “Any plans for you tonight?  Dinner with the families?”  The guards flanking him looked at each other, the third opposite him glaring back into his brown eyes, the olive turtle maintaining his slumped, yet fierce posture.  “Come now, I’m shackled to the van, been thoroughly strip searched…I’m harmless.  Why not chit chat a spell, pass the time?”

                “We traditionally don’t speak with convicts.  Especially child molesters, kidnappers, rapists, pimps, and crime organizers.”  The gruff mutt to his left barked in response, another bump rocking the four of them around the back of the van.  “So shut your fucking mouth.”  Donatello gave a shrug, wincing as it tugged at the scar on his plastron beneath the orange prison jumper he was zipped into.  He could hear the engine rev down as the vehicle slowed to a stop, rocks bouncing beneath the van as it presumably pulled off the road, the same mutt banging on the viewing window.  “Hey, what’s going on?  We alright?”

                The rear doors of the van flung open and erupted in gunfire, Donatello remaining perfectly still as bullets whizzed past him, his three guards falling before they could even return fire against the enemy, blood painting the floors and seats.  Two hitmen stood at the rear of the van with assault rifles raised, faces obscured with gas masks, hands covered in multiple layers of latex gloves.  They said nothing, Donatello raising his hands with a defiant smile.

* * *

                Ray sat on a bench looking over Lake Como, watching the swans paddle by on the water with a smile on his face.  A year had passed since the events with Daniel in the penthouse, and life was finally starting to feel normal for the first time years.  He swirled the brandy around the crystal tumbler held delicately between his fingers, lifting it to his lips and swallowing the contents in a single gulp, the bitter alcohol stinging his throat.  A gust of wind made his suit flutter against his neck and plastron, the cool air providing a delightful crispness on his skin.  The faint creak of wheels against metal snuck up behind him, shoes crunching atop gravel following behind it.  “Hey.”

                “Hey.”  Leo replied, Mikey pulling the blanket over his lap slightly higher, adjusting himself in the wheelchair as Leo pushed him closer to the bench Ray sat, extending a hand once in reach, Ray grabbing it hastily and giving it a firm squeeze.

                “Hey Ray.”  Mikey’s voice was soft, the tremble in his fingertips all but gone by now.  His time in captivity under Daniel’s control had shocked Leo to his core, and was something Ray felt guilty of to this day, and likely would for the rest of his life.  The monster had used Mike’s PTSD and flashbacks to rewrite his memory, and the sudden shattering of it all that fateful night had left the small turtle mentally broken.  The three of them had received copious amounts of therapy since, Mike receiving the bulk of it by far, but even leaving their home left him crippled with paralyzing fear and tremors, interactions with strangers sending him into a spiral of panic attacks that frequently sent him to the hospital.  While Mike spent several months in a hospital for treatment, Ray and Leo had been busy finding this reclusive manor in rural Italy, far from their nightmares and society alike.  Ray turned and smiled at Mike as he felt the smaller turtle play with his wedding ring, giving the hand a reassuring squeeze.  “It’s nice out today.”

                “Mmhmm.”  Their chats were usually pretty limited, letting Mike dictate the conversation course and keeping answers short, slowly rebuilding short and long term memories together.  “What’s that?”  Ray asked, a small envelope sitting atop Mike’s blanket.  The aqua turtle hesitantly grabbed it with his other hand, fingers trembling as he slowly opened its main flap before plunging inside.  He retrieved three red passports from within, Italian markings on their front covers.  “Our passports arrived.”  Mikey nodded and carefully opened a cover, a smile spreading over his lips before handing it to Ray, who returned the smile in kind at the sight of the front page.  “Raphael Salvai.  It’s a nice name.”

                “It means, ‘to save’.” Mike spoke up, holding up his own.  “Michelangelo Salvai.  I like it.  What did you choose?”  He craned his head back to look at Leo, holding up the final passport for his review.

                “Leonardo Salvai. That way we could keep our old names, if we wanted.”  He smiled wistfully, pocketing the passport in his jacket pocket, Mike tucking his into his pants pocket as well.  “I’m glad the Italian Government helped us out like this.  Thank you, Raphael.”  Raphael waved his free hand dismissively, setting the glass down on the bench.  “I’m serious, love.”

                “Don’t sweat it, it’s the least my shitty family name could get us.  You’re the one who bought and refurbished that palatial estate.”  He cocked a wry grin, Leonardo blushing slightly at the compliment.  While he looked rather attractive in a dress, Raphael loved him immensely more in that crisp Italian suit he wore since removing the cage, and how it contrasted with the feminine curves of his body from the hormonal treatment.  All three of them were a sight of sorts, varying degrees of abuse still worn upon their flesh for those with sensitive eyes, like the makeup tattoos that were removed from their faces, the heavier pigments still permanently discoloring their skin despite the laser surgery.  Raphael hid his with aviator sunglasses, while Leonardo wore his as a badge of pride, constant proof that he survived that nightmare.  Michelangelo had none to speak of physically, but everyone could see the mental scars he carried with him.  “Also means we can finally take that Honeymoon trip you always wanted.”  Leonardo’s blush intensified, the thought of taking the Glacial Express around the Alps with his husband something he’d forgotten about in the quiet bustle of the move home.

                “Mm. Slipped my mind, but you’re right.”  Leonardo bent down and squeezed Michelangelo’s shoulder firmly, the aqua turtle churring openly at the touch.  “It feels like we’re finally making progress.  I like this feeling.”  The other two nodded, Michelangelo looking down at his lap.

                “We’ve been through hell. Yet we’re still here together, finally free of our past.”  There was silence between the three of them, remembering friends lost, families destroyed, lives ruined over the years.  The price for this tranquility had been entirely too high, yet none of them could truly be blamed for what had transpired.  “I love you two.”

                “I love you too, lil’ bro.” Raphael grinned, squeezing Michelangelo’s hand with both of his in a firmly loving grasp, his amber eyes locking with Michelangelo’s own gaze.  “You’ll always be family to me.” He turned next to Leonardo, who merely smiled back in silence and gave a nod of affirmation, wedding ring glimmering in the light of the sunset.  “Both of you.”


End file.
